


Laurels

by millersmonty



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: M/M, erasmus is cute and torveld is weak, pointless fluff basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 13:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7846087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millersmonty/pseuds/millersmonty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erasmus makes flower crowns and Torveld is smitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laurels

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 2 of Captive Prince Week 2016. The prompt was "Laurels". Flower crowns aren't technically laurels, but hey *shrug emoji*. This is 100% pointless, self indulgent fluff. I'm not sorry.

Torveld only spared a nod to the two guards standing on either side of the arched double doors as he passed them. The doors opened up onto a large white marble patio adorned with soft cushioned benches and ornately carved pillars, and beyond that was a curving stair case that lead out to one of the larger private gardens at Bazal. Torveld had to stop and shade his eyes from the sun for a moment when he stepped out from beneath the shade of the patio’s ceiling. He'd been cooped up inside in meetings all morning and wasn’t prepared for the bright mid day sun. He’d only been dismissed because Torgeir had grown sick of looking at his bored expression and dismissed him with a wave of his hand and a roll of his eyes, knowing perfectly well where his little brother would rather be.

 

Once his eyes adjusted, Torveld made his way down the stairs to the marble path that ran directly through the center of the garden. It branched off in different directions up ahead, but Torveld knew where to go when he saw another guard standing watch where the path veered off to the right. The guard quickly stood at attention when he spotted Torveld, but said nothing, simply moving off the path to allow Torveld to pass. 

 

He spotted his destination in the distance, and couldn’t stop the smile from taking over his face. There was a small pond almost at the border of the castle grounds, commissioned by his great-grandfather as a wedding present for his great-grandmother. The stone walkway extended to curve all the way around it, separated from the edge by a ring of lush grass, and a dock extended over the water a little ways. There was a large decorative fountain in the center, cushioned benches on every side, a gazebo near the tree line, and floral bushes ranging in size from ankle high to almost as tall as Torveld himself. The fence that surrounded the castle had a gate back here too, allowing for hunting trips or scouting missions in the woods. 

 

There were two more guards here, one at the gate and another sitting on a low stump lazily cleaning his sword. Torveld could practically hear his brother’s voice in his mind just as clearly as if he were standing next to him. He would no doubt tease Torveld if he were here now. _“Five guards?”_ he would say. _“Just to let the boy out of your sight? Why not put the whole damn army on duty and be done with it?”_ Torveld would be lying if he said the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. He’d told every guard in the castle back when he first brought Erasmus to Patras that he’d have their heads if the boy got so much as a paper cut, and he was only mildly exaggerating. There were always a few of them tasked with protecting Erasmus when Torveld couldn’t be there to do it himself. 

 

As for Erasmus, he was sitting at the end of the dock with his back to Torveld, and didn’t seem to have noticed his approach. His knee-high sandals were tied together beside him and he was dangling his feet into the cool water. There was a basket by his side, and he seemed to be quite focused on whatever he was doing, though Torveld couldn’t make out from this distance what it was. The guards both started to stand when he approached, which got Erasmus’ attention. He startled and whipped his head around, relaxing again when he saw it was only Torveld. 

 

“You two are free to go,” Torveld said to the guards, waving them off. They both bowed as they passed, but didn’t stall any further. 

 

Torveld pulled his boots off at the edge of the dock before making his way down to sit next to Erasmus. He dangled his feet into the water as he sat, not caring a bit that the ends of his trousers would be soaked. Now that he was beside Erasmus, he could see that the basket by his side was full of flowers and green sprigs, most likely picked straight from the garden, and in his lap he was winding stems and blossoms together.Torveld leaned in to kiss Erasmus’ temple, taking in a whiff of the sweet scent still lingering in his hair from his morning bath.

 

“What are you making?” He asked.

 

“They’re flower wreaths,” Erasmus answered. “Like crowns, sort of. Laurels. Or just pretty decorations. I used to make them when I was a child, in Ios.” 

 

He had a soft, content look on his face and it made Torveld’s stomach jump up into his chest. He often wondered if Erasmus would always have that effect on him. It had been years since they met and yet Erasmus still managed to make him feel like he was a lovesick boy again without even trying. 

 

“What will you do with them?” Torveld asked, reaching across to run his fingers over one of the wreaths that Erasmus had already finished and put back in his basket. Erasmus shrugged and made a noncommittal humming sound in response.

 

“Not sure,” He said. “Maybe decorate our room with them, or the dinner table. Perhaps give them away when we go into town. Some of the children would like them, I think. Or those nice girls who sell the fruit pies.”

 

Erasmus finished tying up the ends of the wreath he was working on and lifted it out in front of him to examine it. He tilted his head one way and then the other, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips in concentration while he turned the wreath over in his hands, making sure he was satisfied. Torveld felt another wave of fondness move through his chest at the adorably serious expression. 

 

Erasmus turned his calculating look on Torveld, tilting his head to the side while he studied him. Neither spoke, and Torveld took the quiet moment to study his lover in return. The mid day sun was hitting him just right, illuminating his face and catching on his honey colored curls in exactly the right places. Erasmus had always favored the short, airy chitons from his youth in Akielos, a fact that Torveld’s more shallow side was eternally grateful for, and the one he wore today was a pale blush color that complimented his features perfectly. Not for the first time Torveld found himself silently wondering what good deed he had ever done to justify being this lucky. 

 

Erasmus was the one to break the silence. “You should have this one,” He said. He gently placed the laurel on Torveld’s head before Torveld could even formulate a response, and leaned forward to firmly plant a kiss on Torveld’s lips. “It suits you.” 

 

Torveld could only huff out a laugh in response and put an arm around Erasmus’ back to pull the boy close to his side. Erasmus leaned his head on Torveld’s shoulder and sighed in contentment, kicking his feet in the water to make waves. If Erasmus’ wreath of flowers was the only crown Torveld would ever get to wear in his life, he would take it happily. His brother could keep the gold. 


End file.
